I Blame You
by silent-sounds
Summary: Anger can blind you,make you do something that you've always wanted to do, even if you didnt know DH SLASH
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, or the locations. They all belong to JK Rowling, so please don't sue!

Warnings: This will be a male/male SLASH fiction, so if you do not like that, you can just leave now (HP/DM) It also contains violence and self mutilation. 

Again the fist hit his stomach, making him double over in pain. He knelt on the floor, trying to gather his balance and get up, only to be kicked in his side, causing him to loose his balance, and fall to hard stone floor once more. His side hit the grown beneath him, hard. He turned around, onto his back, biting his lips, blocking the scream that was trying to escape. He shut his eyes, the tears building up beneath his closed eyelids. He swallowed them down with his pride, and opened them back up. The man was standing above him, a sick smile on his unfazed face. He held his wand out to the human that was sprawled out on the floor beneath him. Their identical grey eyes locked with each other, one humiliating the other, and one pleading the other. He smirked and held his wand to the boy he was standing over him, who whispered his pleas, his pleas to his father, before he was silenced with another torturous spell, before being left alone in the cold room, passed out from the pain, the blood pooling around him, the coldness over taking him. He would wake up again soon, alone, like always. 

He felt the anger rise in him as he walked faster down the corridors. He hated him; he hated him with such a passion that he was blinded with it. He was running now, his feet appearing and disappearing from his gaze. He looked up, he was close now. He was almost there. He turned the corner, and saw what he was looking for. He saw the figure in a blur as it rounded a different corner. He kept running, kept following the person, quickly catching up to the walking figure, to the clueless figure before him. How he hated that person, how much pain he had caused him to go through. 

He yelled at him to stop, he held out his name. The boy turned around, shocked to see him there, shocked to see his perfection was gone. His clothes were socked with blood, drenched in sweat and tears. His hair was no longer perfectly blonde; instead it was tainted with red, the red from his blood. He was unrecognisable to him; only the smirk and the eyes couldn't fool him, those grey cold eyes. 

Before he knew what was happening he was pinned against the wall by the insane looking boy. His arms were held tightly by his sides. The cold eyes glared at him.

"Do you have any idea how much pain I go through because of you potter?" he narrowed his eyes at the blonde, not knowing how to answer, keeping silent, and waiting for him to continue.

"Do you Potter? Do you have any idea what happens to me because of you!?" their faces were close, and he could see every cut and bruise on the others face, he had an idea, and by the state he was in, he knew it was a lot. What he saw scared him, the boy's cold eyes were no longer full of hate, and instead they were full of sadness, full of loneliness and hurt. Silent tears began to stream down his bloody face, his grips never loosening. 

"I hate you" he spat at shocked boy, who was still confused about what was happening, he never once broke his stare.

"You have no idea Potter." The tears came out faster, but still silent. The boy hung his head, causing it to rest on the confused boys chest. And without any warning, those silent tears were taken off mute.

He looked back into the emerald eyes, repeating his words again and again. he let go of one of the arms he had pinned, and raised it, clenching it into a fist. The boy pinned against the wall flinched slightly and closed his emerald eyes, awaiting the pain he was expected. But instead of a fist against his face, like he was expecting, he felt the warmth of someone's lips on his. He stiffened in shock of what was happening. He opened his eyes wide, He tried to move, but the boy just pinned him harder against the wall, his lips pushed against him more forceful, demanding. He tasted the blood from the other boy's lips, he felt his mouth open, and he tasted the other boy. He felt his body relax, he felt his legs give in, he felt a feeling flutter through him, he felt the heat between the two. He loved the feeling he was experiencing, but he hated it was happening from him. 

He heard himself moan slightly as the other boy shoved him harder against the wall, his hips grinding against his, a feeling of bliss sweeping over him. And then it stopped. The body left him, the warmth left him, and he realised how cold it was. His eyes remained close, as he felt the other boy lean towards him, his face brushed against his cheek, making him feel excited again, and also disgusted that he felt this. He felt his hot breath against his neck.

"I hate you." He whispered into his ear, and then the warmth was gone. 

Harry slowly opened his eyes, only to see an empty hallway. Only a drop of blood on the floor indicated Malfoy really was there. He sunk to the floor, too confused to go to the Gryffindore common room, as he was doing before… it happened. He sighed, and banged his head against the wall, before getting up. 

He followed the water travel down from above, in big transparent droops. He watched it as it streamed down his lean body, gathering his blood, sinking into his cuts, the water had turned thicker now, it turned read. He watched the changed streams flow onto the floor, and wash away into the drain, forever lost, mingling with all of the other water in the pipes.

Draco sighed, and turned off the water, stepping out of the shower, and into the steamy perfects bathroom. He searched around on the bench, blinded slightly by all of the steam. He muttered a quick healing spell that closed up his visible wounds, and only left a faint scar, before drying himself with his towel. He wrapped it around his waste, and began to run his other towel through his silky hair. No matter how vain he sounded, he loved the way his hair felt, so silky, so touchable. He ran his elegant fingers through it. He saw his fingers running through dark raven coloured, unruly hair. Harry's hair. He pulled his hands away from his head quickly, shutting his eyes tightly. He sighed in frustration again. He didn't understand why images of Harry kept intruding his mind, simple pictures, but still arousing. He quickly got dressed before leaving the room. He knew where he had to go, he had to see Pansy, he needed to get rid of his frustration, he needed to be with a girl, to prove that he wasn't attracted to males. To prove to himself that he was not gay. He knew where she was; she always waited, just in case.

Harry stared at the ceiling of his maroon canopy. It had been an hour since he had first laid down, and he still couldn't go to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his thoughts would drift to what had happened, to something he couldn't understand. He hated Draco Malfoy, and he hated him. Everyone knew it, it was as simple as that. He was reminded with it almost everyday. Everyday he would listen to him tease him, mock him, and everyday he do the same to him. That's why when he heard Draco behind him, he prepared himself with another meaningless bicker, it was natural, it was routine. But when he turned around, he didn't see Draco Malfoy, not the one he was accustomed to seeing anyways. Instead he saw a furious young man, a furious and hurt one. He had bruises covering his perfect pale face, cuts that had blood streaming from them. His blonde hair had been streaked in his blood, his clothes a tangled mess, hanging from his body. Harry remembered gasping when he saw him. He felt himself feel confused, as he was when he thought back. But most of all he felt upset, he felt upset for Malfoy. Something usually unbearable for him to think this, but when he saw him, he saw his hurt. And he felt bad, he felt sorry. He saw his life for what it truly was, imperfect, just like the rest of them. 

Harry's mind drifted back to the kiss, and he felt that warm fluttering feeling in his stomach. He punched his pillow, what the hell was he thinking, he wasn't gay, he liked girls. He thought of the way Draco had pushed him against the wall, hurting him, yet he didn't care, all he could feel was the heat of Draco's body, the softness of his lips, the force of his kiss, the feeling of his hips grind him, the feeling of ecstasy. Even if he hated to admit it, Draco had made him feel more excited than he had ever felt when he was with any other girl. Even if that only added up to two, Cho and Lavender. He didn't know why, but when he was with them, he felt almost dead, nothing happened, nothing sparked him. But Draco, that was something different. 

Harry got up with his bed, snatching his glasses from the bedside table, and gathering his invisibility cloak and his marauders map. He needed to talk to him; he needed to understand what was happening. He pulled the cloak around him, and left his dorm room, leaving his friend to sleep peacefully. He opened the portrait, and checked the halls before looking at his map, searching for Draco. After a few seconds he found him, he was on the third floor, on the north wing, in a room Harry wasn't familiar with. And he wasn't alone.

Harry didn't care, he had to see him. He began to run through the dark halls and corridors, only to stop when he finally made it to where Draco was. He looked up and was shocked when he saw that he was standing in front of a portrait of Luscious Malfoy. He frowned, puzzled slightly as he stared at the painting, who was fortunately sleeping. He quietly pointed his wand at the portrait, and whispered a spell Sirius taught him, which would allow him to enter through any portrait in Hogwarts. It swung open, and he silently stepped though, closing it behind him. 

Draco's pulse quickened as he felt Pansy's kisses move down his torso, as she began to unbutton his shirt, and unfasten his belt. Her head was his lap, and although Draco wanted her to stop, he was too full with pleasure and excitement to say or do anything to make her stop. He ran his elegant fingers through her hair, feeling his excitement build up, feeling the ecstasy run through his body as her tongue worked wonders on him. He watched her through the blur of her half-closed eyes, he watched her ponytail swing slightly as she began to pump him faster. And then all of the sudden it was no longer Pansy, but Harry, her dirty long blond hair turned into the short unruly dark hair, that he so longed to run his fingers through. Unsettled by the vision, Draco tried to stop himself, but couldn't. It was too late. It was over. He leaned back against the wall and slowly allowed himself to regain his breath. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He wanted to have sex with a girl to feel better about what happened, but instead he had through about a boy while he was with a girl. And not just any boy. Harry Potter, his enemy. 

Harry watched Pansy bring her head up from Draco's lap, and rest it on his bare chest, which was streamed in sweat, the moon light reflecting in it, making him look immortal. He watched as Draco shoved her aside and began to put his clothes back on. He watched her sigh, already accustomed to not receiving anything from Draco. He watched Draco's lean body being covered by the silky material of his robes. He saw the distant look in the boys grey eyes, and he saw him walk past him, and out of the room. He saw him stop a few corners in the hall, and he saw him whisper his name, before continuing walking to his dorm.


	2. Chapter 2

"Your up?" Ron stood by his bed, a shocked expression on the red heads face. Harry ran his hand once more through his hair, before giving up on trying to tame it. He turned to his friend and smiled weekly. 

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep. Well I'll see you at breakfast." He waved his hand a bit in a way to say bye, and casually ran out of the room. Part of what he said was true, he couldn't sleep, he just decided not to mention why he couldn't sleep.

 Harry quietly left the common room, and made his way to breakfast, thankful that it was already a Saturday and he didn't have to worry about classes. The real reason why he had decided to wake up early for once in his life, was to see if he could catch Draco after breakfast, because he still hadn't had the chance to speak to him, properly. That and he was still confused on what was going on. 

Harry sat down on the almost empty gryffindor table, making sure that he was facing the Slytherin table. He placed some food on his plate, not bothering to look at it, or eat it. He sat in his chair and began to chew on his nails, trying to think of what he was going to say to Draco.

 His eyes snapped up to the table across from him, and sure enough Draco was there, and even better Harry saw that he was alone. He stared at the blonde, noticing things that he hadn't notice, or hadn't been bothered to, before. He saw how his black sweater clung to his lean body, exenterating his broad shoulders. Harry licked his lips nervously, but never dropped his gaze from the boy in front of him. 

Draco faked a yawn, trying to take his mind off the fact that Harry had been staring at him from the minuet he arrived. He wiped his palms on his jeans, trying to rid of the sweat. Even if he felt nervous he wasn't going to show it, he had his mask of no emotions on, and he wasn't going to risk taking it off.

 He tried to take a bite, those haunting eyes still on him. He hated to love those eyes, they were beautiful to him, but he hated them for showing all of Harry's emotions. Why did he have to do that? He didn't want to see what Harry felt, it aggravated him in a way that he didn't know why. 

Why was it that he was allowed to show the world what he felt, and Draco had to hide it with the cost of his life? Maybe it was because he was the golden boy of the wizarding world, and Draco was the prince of the dark. 

He sighed again, not able to take it, he lifted his face and looked straight ahead of him, into those damn haunting green eyes. He smirked at the boy's face, which had a curious expression on it; his eyes screamed it at him. Draco mouthed the word 'what?' with a fake disgusted look on his face. Harry just blinked at him and mouthed back, 'we need to talk.' Draco quickly looked around the room; happy for once to see that no one was paying attention to him or Harry, instead they all sat in some type of over tiered daze.

 Draco looked back at Harry and frowned, as if to say the had no idea what he was trying to say, but as he turned back he saw that Harry was already half way out of the hall. Draco watched his back, and noticed how baggy Harry's clothes were. His jeans were at least two sizes to big for him, and his t-shirt was definitely not made for his thin figure. Draco sighed again in frustration, what did he care what Harry was wearing.

After a few second of watching the raven haired boys back, he got up from his seat to follow him, no matter how much he hated himself for doing so, he agreed that they needed to talk, or at least that was what Draco was saying to himself. Secretly just needing to see Harry again.

Harry felt Draco following him, he felt his icy eyes on his back, watching his every move. After a few minutes, when he was sure that no one else would be around, he stopped and turned around to face him.

"You don't have to be that far behind when you follow me you know? No one will see us." Draco stopped right in front of Harry, and raised his chin.

"Don't tell me what to do Potter, just keep walking." Harry shrugged and turned around, not wanting to waste their time by bickering. A few more minutes passed and they finally arrived where Harry was leading them. Which just happened to be the same room they were both in last night.

Draco's eyes widened slightly, he quickly looked at Harry, whose eyes had a flicker of humour in them. 

"What?" he asked innocently, before opening up the portrait, ignoring the insults and glares that he was receiving from it. He entered, and turned around to watch Draco follow him.

"How do you know about this room Potter?" His voice was a whisper, even though no one was in the small room. Harry ignored the question, and walked around Draco to close the portrait, and muttered a silencing and locking charm on it. He turned back to find Draco very close to him, a little too close for comfort, since he didn't seem very happy. 

"I said, how do you know about this room… Potter." He spat out his name as if it tasted like vile in his mouth. Harry glared back, not backing away.

"Invisibility cloaks I find are the best invention yet." A smile played on his lips; Draco glared further more, as if trying to kill Harry on the spot.

"Have you been spying on me Potter? Nothing better to do than stare at me? I know I'm gorgeous, but I don't appreciate people watching my every move." He held his chin up, and smirked, looking down at Harry, who stood to his full height, and stared him straight in the eyes.

"At least I don't go around forcing guys to kiss me just because I know I can't get them." Draco inhaled deeply before laughing in Harry's face.

"You think I want you Potter? You think I'm attracted to you? Please Potter, look at you! And to say I couldn't get you is laughable, I know you like me Potter, its obvious. Don't tell me what I feel Potter, because I don't feel." Draco tried to push past Harry, who was blocking his way to the exit, but Harry just stepped in front of him

"If you have no feelings for me then why would you have kissed me?" Harry looked at him satisfied that he had found something that he would be unable to cover up.

"Why Potter? Do I really need a reason? Just because I kissed you, doesn't mean I have feelings for you! I was curious that's all. After me, I admit you're the most sought out guy, and I wanted to see what I was up against, which trust me is not a problem. Now if you would please get out of my fucking way." He tried to pass him again, but due to Harry's quick reflects, he blocked him.

"I don't believe you!"

"I really don't care if you do! Now just step out of my way or."

"Or what, you'll sexually harass me?" Harry felt himself anger, he wanted to sort things out between him and the blonde, but instead they were arguing, like they always did. Draco tried to speak, but Harry cut him off.

"Look Malfoy, I saw you last night. I saw the real you, I saw you and you were hurt, why were you hurt? And don't you try to deny that, because you had blood and cuts and bruises, heck you were a mess!"

"What do you care Potter. Just leave me alone, and get out of my way." Draco whispered, his eyes emptied with the anger that had filled them, leaving behind emptiness, leaving nothing, no life. 

"I may not like you Malfoy, but when I see someone in that state, it's my nature to help." 

"Of course it is, it always it. You're the bloody boy who lived, the golden boy, our worlds hero." Dracos voice was strong and dripped with hate, even if it hadn't risen from the whisper. 

"At least I don't go around whispering your name in the middle of the night.' Harry stared straight into his eyes, noticing how much he paled when he said that.

" I don't know what your talking about Potter. Now get the fuck out of my way, I mean it Potter, move!" he stepped closer to Harry, his eyes were narrowed into slits.

"I think you do Malfoy, and I'm not moving until we talk."

"Fine, don't move." Upon saying this Draco brought his hands up and pushed Harry out of the way, causing him to trip and fall. Because of Harry's reflexes he grabbed onto Dracos sweater, pulling him with him. Both boys landed on the ground, Draco on top of Harry.

Harry gulped and stared up at the boys piercing blue eyes, his soft blonde hair brushed his forehead lightly.

 He flinched slightly at the pain from falling. Both boys were breathing heavily due to they had just had the air knocked out of them, and the fact that they were so close. 

Harry licked his lips; neither of their eyes left each other's. Draco swallowed audibly, as he stared into Harry's green eyes, forgetting about their conflict only seconds before, only concentrating on Harry's face, the feel of how their bodies fitted together so comfortably, how strong he felt, and the heat between the two.

 His eyes fell above Harry's eyes, on his scar, which was covered by his hair. Slowly he raised his hand, which were shaking slightly, and left his fingers to hover slightly above. He looked back into Harry's eyes, which looked confused, but not mad.

 Draco lowered his fingers and very lightly ran his finger over the smooth scar, following it. He brought his hand further up, into Harry's hair, and ran his fingers through it as he had imagined himself doing so many times. 

He was surprised to find how soft it was, he brushed the hair out of Harry's eyes and off his forehead. He let his hand follow Harry's face, feeling the softness of his checks. He glided them over his lips, which parted slightly on him doing so. He looked back into Harry's green eyes, which fluttered slightly in pleasure of having Draco touch him. Draco brought his face down lower, until their lips almost touched. 

An instant later Draco had pressed his lips onto Harry's, devouring them. He opened his mouth slightly, making Harry's do the same, allowing him to let their kiss deepen.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I am so sorry about the previous chapter three being the same as Chapter two. I think I uploaded the wrong one…Oh well, anyways heres the RIGHT chapter, PLEASE REVIEW…it makes me happy J 

**Oh and thank you for all the reviews I did get…**

_Chapter three_

Harry sat on the bench and stared at himself in the mirror. What was wrong with him? Why was it that whenever Draco kissed him, seconds later he would pull away, and tell him he hated everything about him. Harry glared at his reflection, hating everything about it. No wonder he hates me, he thought to himself. Everyone thinks I'm so damn perfect, but they have no idea, no idea at all. If it wasn't for me so many lives could have been saved, so many deaths and slaughters could have been prevented. I'm there bloody golden boy, its all up to me, if I mess up, I mess up the whole fucking world. 

Harry got up from the bench in the gryffindor's bathroom, his towel still wrapped around his waist. He glanced at his watch, it was eleven thirty, and his so-called friends would be asleep by now. Friends, some could say that. They were only there for him because of his name, because of his scar. But they weren't true; they could turn on him within seconds, like they had done before. His eyes travelled to his scar, that famous scar, his blessing and his cursed. He didn't understand, it was only a scar, so why praise it. He could make new scars, he could make deeper scars, so why was this one always in the papers, always in photos. He wanted new scars; he wanted something other than fame.

The glass shattered, spilling into the sink before it, cutting his fist. He pulled out a larger piece that was resting on the floor in front of him. His hands quivered slightly as he lifted it so he could further admire the jagged sharp edge that had been created. He ran one of his fingers lightly down the larger edge, causing small drops to appear on the surface of his skin. He held it up to his eyes, pinching the small cut, trying to gather all of the blood onto the surface. Only a small amount of the bright red liquid appeared, not enough to satisfy him. His hand quivered slightly as he brought the sharp object next to his tan skin on his arm. He very gently pressed the shard of glass into his unmarked arm. He felt a tingle of pain, not much, and not enough. He pressed it harder, the pain spreading through his body, making him feel real, making him feel alive. He slid the piece of glass along his arm, creating one long and deep cut. He lifted the glass and looked at the pink mark he made. Frowning, he wondered where the blood was. Didn't he cut deeply enough? As the blood slowly raised the surface of his skin, he began to go over the line, making it deeper, making it bleed more. 

The pain was worse, making Harry gasp slightly, his hand tightening on the fragile glass, making it snap, leaving one piece in his hand, and the other in his arm, blood pooling around it, and dripping onto the white tiles, standing out, screaming at him. he dropped the glass onto the floor, shattering it into a million other pieces, just like he felt. He slowly drew the sharp object out of his skin, as more of his blood, his oh so heroic blood stream out of his now branded arm. He began to panic. He hadn't noticed how deep had cut into himself, he didn't relies this much blood was going to come out. He quickly turned one of the taps on and tried to drown his blood with the water. The sink was splattered with blood. He grabbed one of the towels near him and wrapped it around his arm. He then got his wand out of his robe pocket, which was lying on the ground, parts of it already seeped in his blood, and the other littered with glass. He carefully took of the towel, wincing slightly by the pain that was no longer enjoyable, and muttered a quick healing spell. 

The red liquid stopped streaming out, and vanished, only leaving behind a very long and quite thick line that ran along his inner arm. He sighed in frustration, then cleaned up his mess with a one flick of his wand, only keeping the shattered piece of glass that he had used, for he thought it may come in handy soon. He washed the blood off of it, and dried it with his towel, wrapping it carefully with tissue. 

Harry sighed and cursed himself before the bathroom that was now back to what it was meant to look like. He was a coward, and he knew it. He caused people to die, and yet he wasn't brave enough to end his own. He didn't know what he kept living for, what he was holding onto, but he knew there was something. And he knew, even if he didn't want to admit it, that that something was someone. Draco Malfoy, his internal enemy, the dark prince of his world, and yet somehow also his saviour. 

````````

A week passed, no one noticed the scars. He was relived, but angry. He didn't want people to notice, but it hurt to think that even his closest friends were so naïve that they didn't even bother to ask what happened, probably just passing the cuts off as scratches. Harry lowered his green eyes. He had changed, and no one noticed. His friends seemed to just pass it off as him being tiered, they didn't bother to find out what was truly wrong, which just saddened him more. He drew his heavy body, not saying a word to his friends who were studying in front of the fire in the common room. He grabbed his coat that was hung on the back of his chair, and pushed the portrait hole, ignoring the fat lady's comments about being more gentle next time. 

His eyes were set further into his head, darkened with bags from the lack of sleep he was getting, his robes hanging baggier since he wasn't eating much anymore. His hair looked tangled and untamed, and otherwise he looked like death itself, not that anyone had taken that much notice of course, they were all blinded from his name, from his scar, that was covered by his now long fringe, that covered his vision slightly. He watched as his feet reappeared and disappeared from his vision, just letting himself walk. He knew where he was going, even if he didn't think about it. 

He drew his wand out, but had second thoughts, and instead knocked lightly on the portrait that stared disapprovingly down at him eyebrows raised. He wasn't even sure if he would be here, he just suspected it. After a few moments he heard noise within the small room, and slowly and uncertainly the portrait began to swing open.

"Blaise I thought I told you tomorrow not…" Draco stopped short as he saw who was standing in front of him, his green eyes staring hauntingly at him. He gasped audibly as he saw what a mess Harry looked, but quickly gained his cool. He smirked.

"Well if it isn't our hero, what dragged you here?" He asked, moving aside allowing Harry to step in, not wanting people to see them together, afraid they might tell his father. He would hate to think what his father would do to him if he knew about Harry visiting in the dead of night. Probably cast the Crucio curse on him, he smirked, even if his eyes betrayed him. 

Harry stepped past Draco, not even shore why he was here. He walked slowly down the small corridor, which opened up, into the cosy room. He sat down at the end of the four-poster bed, and stared absent mindly at the fire in front of him. Draco frowned at the state of the boy; a worried look fluttered across his face, and was gone as quickly as it had come. He sat down in the chair opposite the bed, and stared at him, waiting for him to say something, anything. 

"I hate my life."

 Harry whispered, still staring at the fire, refusing to meat the other boys eyes, not sure why he was even telling him any of this. 

"I hate it so fucking much. I hate when people look at me and all they can see is this damned scar." 

He ran his finger along the lighting bold on his forehead, whilst Draco stared at him mesmerized with what he was saying.

"They don't know me, they don't see me. They never will. They can never understand how much pain and misery that my life is. They all think that just because my name is Harry Potter I must lead a wonderful life. I don't. They all think I have the perfect life, the perfect home. I don't. I don't have a home, not like they do. This is my only home." 

He gestured around the room and continued.

"But they don't know. I have no family; sure I have my aunt and my uncle, and my cousin. But they're not family. My uncle beats me. They treat me like their slave. And for some weird reason, I like it, because I know they don't look at me like everyone else, blinded by the scar. Somehow it's comforting really. To them I'm no hero; I'm just a fifty boy, the only stain in their lives. I hate them, they hate me, yet I'm somewhat thankful for them."

"The only real family I had was taken away from me, when I was so young that I cant remember anything about them. Then I had Sirius. I was so happy to have something in my life that was good. I loved him like he was my father. He was my only family. And he was ripped away from me to. I may be a hero in their eyes, I may have been put on this earth to save them, but I was definitely not meant to be happy. Everyone I love either dies or gets hurt, and all because of me. They should lock me away and only use me when they have to, when I need to save them. I hate my life. I cut myself, just to see if I can bleed, to make sure I'm even human."

He pulled his sleeve up and showed Draco all of his scars, which ran in a pattern of crosses and lines.

Finally he looked into those deep silver eyes. He looked at him as if he had just noticed he was there, and that he had actually told someone what he had been holding in. 

"I'm sorry."

 He whispered, as he continued to stare into his silver eyes. Draco inhaled deeply, and stood up. His first thought was to do what he should, which was to tell Harry to fuck off, and that he didn't care about his problems. But he didn't. Instead he walked across the small distance that separated them, and sat down on the bed next to Harry.

Both their eyes stared ahead of them, into the warm hypnotic fire. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for Harry. In a way I understand." 

The blonde turned his head slightly; his eyes caught the other boys deep green eyes. 

" I guess we have more in common than either of us think. We are both blessed and cursed by our names." 

Their eyes continued to stare into each other's, both lost and obvious to the outside world. 

"Can I ask you something Harry?"

 Harry nodded in response. 

"Not that I mind, but why did you come here and tell me all of that. I suspect I'm the only one that you have told?" 

Harry inhaled at the question, caught off guard slightly. After a few moments he replied.

"I have no idea why I came here. I guess I knew, subconsciously that we were both suffering somehow, I guess I thought you would understand more than anyone else…" 

Draco nodded. 

"I do understand Potter, and I'm sorry that you have to hurt yourself to feel alive. We're similar in that way too you know?"

 Dracos voice was soft and velvety; nothing like Harry was used to. Harry frowned slightly

"You cut yourself too?"

 He asked confused, his eyes fluttered down to Dracos arm, which was covered with his black silk pyjamas. He looked back up into the other boy's eyes, once again getting lost in them.

"Well no, I have other people to do that for me. But in a way I think I'm glad they do, so that I know I can feel pain like everyone else. That this mask I have hasn't taken me over just yet…"


	4. Chapter 4

Both boys remained silent for a while, both staring once more in the fire. Again it was Draco who broke the silence that had over taken them, not that they minded. He turned to face Harry again, who was already staring at him.

"I want to show you something Harry."

 Harry looked confused, but curious to what Draco wanted to show him. 

"If I show you Harry, you have to promise not to tell anyone. But before I show you, I want you to know it wasn't of my decision… do you understand that Harry?" 

Draco's voice was still soft and quite like before, his eyes looked slightly nervous, making Harry feel nervous. He nodded his head slowly. 

Draco stood up and began to unbuttoned his shirt; Harry stared up at him with a slightly be-wildered look. Draco seemed to notice.

"Get your mind out of the gutter Harry, its nothing like that." 

Harry blushed slightly, but never took his eyes off of the sight in front of him. Very slowly the black silk pyjama shirt that was once clothing Draco's firm and lean body, was dropped to the floor. Draco sat back onto the bed next to Harry, and grabbed his wand from the small table beside them. He quickly muttered something, pointing his wand at his forearm, and slowly something began to appear on his pale strong arms.

Harry heard himself gasp slightly, as he saw the dark mark appear before him on Draco. Although he had always thought Draco was a git, he hadn't really thought Draco would have joined Voldermort, not yet anyways. He raised his eyes to look back into Dracos. Very slowly he let his hand rest against the mark, feeling a slight tingling sensation on his palm, as will as his scar. With his other hand he reached up to his forehead, and ran his finger along his scar. He exhaled the breath he hadn't noticed he was holding.

Draco stared at him, and yet against repeated his words.

"You don't have to be sorry for anything Harry. We are both branded with something, me to the dark, and you to the light." 

Their eyes continued to take each other in. Harry let his eyes drift along Dracos body, licking his lips slightly. When he looked back into his silver orbs, he saw that there was a look in them that he had never seen before. Need, passion, hunger and desire. He felt his stomach stir slightly, as Draco lent nearer to Harry, closing in the space between them. He lent his forehead against Harry's. Their hair contrasting against each other. Fair and 'evil,' dark and 'innocent.' Strange really. 

Their lips met each other, and their kiss was simple but meaningful. And for the first time their kiss was not full of hate or anger, but instead passion and love. Making it more meaningful to both of them than any other kiss they had had. Harry placed his hand against the small of Dracos back, as Draco intertwined his fingers through Harry's soft dark hair, pulling each other's bodies closer, needing each other's warmth and sadness.  

After a few moments Harry pulled away, and looked down at his watch, only to remember that it didn't work. It had broken when Sirius had died, and he only wore it in remembrance. Harry tore his eyes away from the memory, and looked up to the wall opposite him, which stood an expensive clock. His eyes flickered from the time that read twelve, down to the design that was moving around, chasing the second hand. It was a small dragon, which every now and again would breath out fire, made from gold, at the second hand, in attempt to slow it down. Harry smiled, and Draco followed his gaze.

"A birthday present to me. From my godfather."

 Harry turned to look at the boy beside him, the soft warm glow from the fire hitting his face perfectly, creating shadows under his cheek bones, his silky silver like hair fell perfectly over his forehead, framing his beautiful face perfectly. 

"It's beautiful…" 

Harry whispered, not sure if he was talking about the clock, or Draco himself, both perhaps. 

"Who's your godfather?" 

Harry was trying to stall the time, hoping he would have to leave just yet. Draco turned his attention back to Harry, answering him with a slight smile playing at his lips, the first Harry had seen.

"Professor Snape." 

Harry's eyes widened slightly.

"So that explains the way he favours you." 

Draco smiled fully then, lighting up his whole face, making him look much younger than he usually did. His eyes danced slightly in the lighting. Harry laughed slightly, and then looked back at the clock. 

" I should go…" 

He said, still not moving from his position next to Draco. Draco bit his lip slightly; making him, for the first time look slightly venerable. He looked at Harry, then down to the floor.

"You could… stay if you wanted. I mean I'm sure my pyjamas would fit you. I'm not that much taller than you."

 He looked nervously back at Harry, sighing in relief to him when he saw that the other boy was smiling.

"Yeah I guess I could do that…" 

Draco smiled again, making Harry want to taste his perfect lips again. Draco stood up and walked over to the other side of the room, which a large wooden closet was standing up against the stonewall. He opened the large wooden door and pulled out a pair of silver silk pyjamas. He tossed them to Harry, waiting for him to change. Harry cleared his throat, and looked down at the pyjamas in his hands.

"Do you mind…turning around maybe?" 

his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, which Draco just laughed at. 

"Oh right of course." 

Draco turned around slightly, making sure he was still able to see Harry through the corner of his eye.

Harry took of his t-shirt and jeans, leaving him in his plaid boxers. He quickly stepped into the silk long pants, drawing the drawstring tightly around his think waist. He then pulled the silk shirt on. All the while Draco was watching him, surprised slightly at just how skinny the boy was. He had never really seen his body, since he always hid it under baggy clothes. But now he could see why, it was because he was so thin. It wasn't an unattractive thinness, it looked more like a swimmers body if anything, but it was still too think for Harry's body. Draco frowned, and turned around when Harry told him it was ok to. He looked into the other boy's eyes.

"Why are you so thin Harry?" 

he asked, causing Harry to blush and revert his eyes down to the wooden floor. He replied, never taking his eyes off the floor.

"Remember how I said my uncle and the rest of them hate me… well during the summer… they don't let me eat that much."

 He looked back into Dracos silver eyes, his own looking sad and embarrassed. Draco inhaled deeply.

"Well then I guess it's a good thing you live here in Hogwarts most of the time huh?" 

Harry smiled slightly, glad that he didn't need to respond to Dracos comment. Draco made his way to his bed, and then looked at Harry.

"I can set up the couch or…" 

He stood still waiting for Harry to respond.

"Oh... Um… The couch sounds fine."

 He bit his lip slightly, both boys knowing what they really wanted. Draco reached for his wand and in moment the couch was made up with pillows and sheets. Harry slipped off his glassed as Draco turned off the light, and both boys slid into their 'beds.' 

"Goodnight." 

They whispered to each other in union, both closing their eyes, but neither of them really sleeping.

Harry could hear him breath softly in the dark, the fire flickering slightly. He was so close to Harry, yet he was still to far for comfort. After a few more moments of inner battle, Harry quietly slipped out from under his sheets, and stood up, moving silently over to Draco's bed. He looked down at the shadowed figure before him, which was lying on one side, his back facing Harry. He quietly slid under the covers next to Draco. Draco stirred slightly next to him.

"I wondered when you would figure out how uncomfortable that couch was."

 Harry swore he could even hear Draco smirk.

"Oh be quiet." 

Harry said, smiling. He slipped his arm around Draco's waist, pulling him closer to him. The both closed their eyes, and this time they were instantly taken over by a peaceful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Response to reviews from chapter four:**

Usually Immaculate Aristocrat- Like the name, and thank you, I quite like the characters myself ;)   

Amy Leigh- It will be finished, in time…*I'm so mysterious Haha*

Nicole-purple- Cute? Thank you J… Sorry about the cutting part, had to add it, and the spelling errors…anyone up to be my beta reader *begs*

Esmerelda Black-  Cute? I see a theme in my reviews Haha… Thank your though 

Apersonreasoning- I love flattery, keep it coming lol.

Thank you again to everyone, your reviews make me want to write more and faster, and hopefully better! Anyways, what you really came for, THE NEXT CHAPTER: 

Harry woke up early out of habit. He looked around, confused at first where he was. He stuck his hand around on the tableside, his hand searching for his glasses. When he found them his slid them to place, and looked around at the now clear vision.

 He felt the warmth of Draco radiate to him, keeping him warm. He frowned at the vision at Draco. His face looked slightly pained and restless. Harry sighed, realizing that like him too, Draco couldn't get away from anything, not even in his dreams. 

Harry looked up at the clock, seeing that it was already six thirty, and afraid that his 'friends' would start waking up soon, he stood up from the bed, causing Draco to stir slightly in his sleep, missing the warmth that Harry had created for him.

 Harry slid of Draco's clothes, and folded them neatly, putting them on the table in front of the couch. He then pulled on his own clothes, and grabbed his invisibility cloak from the chair. He was about to leave, when he spotted a piece of parchment on Draco's desk. He grabbed the quill from the inkpot, and scribbled a short note.

_Draco,_

_I woke up and you were still sleeping, so I figured I would return to my hell without bothering you. Good luck today in Quidditch, it will be strange going against you and not have the want to knock you off your broom…_

_Signed, you know. _

Harry looked at the note, and after reading it once more, satisfied, he left it on Draco's desk. He looked back at Draco, and walked over to the bed, standing next to him. He bent down, and very lightly brushed his lips across his forehead, causing Dracos face to finally look peaceful. Harry smiled, and he felt a flutter go through his body. He turned and left before he could do anything cornier, and quickly walked to the Gryffindore common room, thankful for his invisibility cloak. 

Harry felt the expectations of him like an invisible current trying to knock him off his broom. He heard the whistle blow, and saw the snitch being released. He watched it for a second before turning his broom, so that he flew further up, each second gaining speed, watching the crowds before him decrease in size, their cheers being drowned out from the rush of wind that was surrounding him.

 He didn't really care about the match, not anymore. He may have been captain, but it wasn't him that was planning all of the plays, it was Ron. He didn't know why he was even captain, he knew he had skills, but its not like he wanted to be it. Captain, another achievement to add on his list that he hated so much. He loved to fly, to get away from it all; it took all his will power not to just fly away from the match. 

He stopped and hovered on the spot, high up in the air, watching the match below. He could just make out the commentary saying Gryffindore was winning. He hated that. He didn't want to win, they didn't need too. His green eyes fell onto what they were searching for, his enemy, his rival, and his opponent. His hair was still perfect, which amazed Harry. He ran his fingers through his own hair, feeling the tangled mess it was. He suspected Draco used a charm to keep his hair in place. 

Harry smiled at the thought, his eyes never leaving the determined looking face Draco had on. He definitely wasn't going to catch the snitch, not when it meant so much to him. And he knew what would happen to him if he didn't win. The thought made Harry feel sick, as he searched the Slytherin stands. Shore enough he saw him, his face elegant, but as cold as hell. Harry felt his grip on his broom tightened as he stared at the man who caused Draco so much pain. He averted his eyes, as if it hurt him just to look at him. He saw the Slytherin make a goal, and despite his act he smiled, glad he was too far up for anyone to notice.

~~~~~~~~~

Draco glided through the air slowly, making sure not to miss the snitch. He frowned, wondering why Harry hadn't moved through out the whole game. He knew by now most of Harry's tactics, and he really didn't think this was one of them. In a way he was glad he wasn't doing anything, but he also wanted to win and know he had earned it. 

He could feel his eyes on him, watching his every move. His eyes were always there, always looking down on him, as if hoping he would mess up just so he could punish him. Draco stiffened, he hated when he was watching. He tried to push it out of his thoughts, but it wouldn't leave, just like he would never get out of his life. 

~~~~

Harry saw the snitch; it was plain in front of him, as if wanting him to catch him. it didn't move, it just hovered in front of him. Which was odd really, since that never happened when he actually wanted it. At first he had reached up in reflex, but he didn't close his hand around it, he just let it hover slightly above, wondering what to do. 

"And a great knock by the Slytherin beaters. Oh, and its heading up, and Harry! HARRY WATCH OUT!"

 Harry turned when he heard his name, confused. He looked down, his eyes widening slightly as he saw what was happening. Before he could react, the bludger came in contact with the end of his broom, knocking him forward, his hand falling down and closing around a certain something. 

He tried to regain control of his broom, but he couldn't, not with one hand. He began to spin, slowly descending towards the field. Every few seconds the broom began to gain speed, in the end hurtling him onto the field with a loud sickening thud.

~~~~~

Draco couldn't explain what he felt when he saw Harry fall to the ground; it was as if he really cared. It hurt him to see Harry sprawled out onto the grass, his face etched with a pain expression. He didn't care who was watching, more yet he forgot people were there around him. All he could register was that Harry was hurt, and he wanted to see how he was.

Draco landed on the grass, and dropped his broom to run over to Harry. The other Gryffindore players were doing the same, as was madam Pomfrey, except Draco was the first to reach him. He dropped to the ground beside Harry, asking if he was ok. Harry opened his eyes slightly and mumbled something, which Draco couldn't hear, let alone understand. He moved closer to Harry.

"My hand, take the snitch…" 

He murmured. Draco frowned, and glanced at Harry's hand, which was still gripping the snitch. Draco looked back at Harry's face.

"Harry I don't want to take it, it doesn't matter." 

"Yes… it does…"

 Draco was going to respond, but at that moment the rest of the Gryffindore team arrived, and glared at Draco, who just sneered coldly at Harry, hoping that Harry could see the concern in his eyes.

"Hope it hurt Potter." 

He said, his voice no longer friendly and caring, but instead harsh. Harry looked up at him, his face looking frustrated, his eyes telling Draco he understood the act they had to play.

"Fuck off Malfoy,"

 His voice was weak, but still convincing to the surrounding Gryffindore's. Who responded by agreeing with Harry, telling Draco to leave him alone, and that couldn't he see he was hurt. 

It only took a few moment for them to realize that Harry had caught the snitch, shouting to the rest of the house, which erupted in a mingle of cried of victory. Harry closed his eyes, listening to the noise, waiting for someone to actually be concerned on how he was.

 He let the snitch roll out of his hand, as Madame Pomfrey came to his aid, telling him he had broken a few ribs, but other than that he was fine. She said that he would have to spend the night in the hospital wing, but after that he was free to go. Harry didn't open his eyes. He just waited, waited for his friends to ask him if he was ok. But they didn't, they just congratulated him on winning against their rivals, the Slytherin's. 

Once in a while he heard someone say they hopped he was ok, but they're voice was too happy to with the win to sound convincingly concerned. As he was being carried off to the hospital wind, he smiled to himself. Wasn't it ironic that the only one who cared was the prince of Slytherin himself? He laughed slightly to himself, as he was being placed onto the hospital bed, immediately falling asleep.

~~~~

"But father I wasn't" 

Draco began to plea, no longer able to take the waves of curses that were being sent his way.

"Silence! You lost, again, and when that damned boy fell, you actually ran to his help! Like you cared! I'll ask you again, what is going on?" 

Lucious stared down at the boy who was attempting to stand up, trying to show no weakness, trying to not let the tears escape his dead eyes.

"Father I was only there to see if he really had caught the snitch…" 

Draco had managed to stand, but was knocked back against his cold floor, and hard, he winced, but did not make a sound; he knew it would be worse if he did. He stared at a spot beside him.

"Liar! Look at me boy."

 Draco slowly lifted his gaze to the man in front of him, his father.

"You have embarrassed me. You will apologize, and then you will withstand the Crucio curse, and maybe then I will not report you the Dark Lord." 

 Draco continued to stare into the eyes that were identical to his own. 

"I am sorry father, I did not mean to embarrass you, I will never do it again."

 The eyes continued to glare at him.

"You're a pathetic excuse for a son."

He lifted his wand up, pointing it at Draco, as the words formed in Draco mind; I'm not your son, just your heir. But he couldn't say this, because in a few short moments he heard the cold sickening voice whisper the curse, and he was over taken with pain. 

He heard the man leave, but he didn't yell, didn't shout with pain. He just laid on the ground twisting and shaking, only hoping when the pain would end, when the invisible knifes would stop slicing him. But he did allow two things, one a single tear fall from his dead eyes, mingling with his blood onto the floor. Second he allowed himself to whisper the name of the one person he knew cared, of the one person he actually cared for. He whispered the name of his so-called enemy, the name he had been taught all his life to hate. He whispered Harry, before the curse ended, and he was left on the floor, his head falling into an unconscious state, once again.  

~~~~~~~~~

Harry woke up as a wave of nausea hit him. He quickly searched the bedside table next to him, trying to find his glassed, which he then slipped on. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't explain it. All that he wanted to do, all that his body was telling him to do, was to go to Draco, to go to his room. 

Harry ignored the pain he felt when he walked, not caring about it, all he was focused on was Draco. He wasn't even thinking as he ran blinded to where he needed to go, the darkness making it hard for him to see. He just kept running, focusing on the thought of Draco. He couldn't explain what he was feeling, it was as if he had called to him, he just knew something was wrong. Harry didn't care if he got caught, he didn't care how cold he felt in his pyjamas in the middle of October. He didn't care at all about his surrounding. 

Harry stopped, out of breath as he stared at the portrait; he knocked on the portrait, pressing his ear against it, trying to head something, anything. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, thankful for grabbing it at the last moment. He pointed it at the portrait, and muttered the spell to open it. it stayed still for a moment, before slowly opening. As soon as there was enough space for him to fit through, he ran in, banging it closed behind him. He ran through the short corridor, before entering Draco's room. He glanced widely around, until he saw him. His hair was covered in blood, dying it a pale red. His face was paler, and his body looked mangled as his robed lay around him, in wrecks. 

Harry dropped down next to him, as he had when he was hurt, except this was much worse. Harry lifted Draco head, so that his head was resting in his lap. He stroked his hair, letting his fingers being stained with his blood…


	6. Chapter 6

Harry felt his eyes begin to fill with tears, which he knew was pathetic, since only a while ago this limp boy lying lifeless in his lap was his worst enemy. But he knows he could see just how alike they were to each other. 

Harry searched his body for any life, relived when he saw the other boy's chest rise and fall, with the intake of air, of life. He felt his pulse, and could detect it beating, weakly, but surely. He sighed in relief, and intertwined his fingers in this hair, further dying his fingers with the dark red liquid, that was now beginning to dry. 

"I'm so sorry Draco..."

 yet another of Harry's tears fell, this time onto Dracos cheek, getting lost in his blood and his tears, which were dried on his face, in a flowing pattern. 

"I am so sorry that someone could hurt you like this, that you have to suffer through something you are unable to control. You're the bravest person I know Draco, and I'm just a coward. I hurt myself, to a point of nothing, and you manage to go through this." 

Harry couldn't care less if Draco could actually hear him, he was in such a state of sadness that he hadn't notice the other boy flutter his eyes open, listening to every word being spoken from the others lips, which had salty tears running pass them, dripping every now and then onto him.

"Harry I want you to know that you mean a lot to me." 

Harry was obviously surprised to hear the other boy respond, he looked down into the other boys eyes, and smiled, tears still making their way down his face. He smiled; lighting up his emerald eyes slightly, from the obvious desperation that was in them before, desperation that Draco was ok. 

"You mean a lot to me too Draco, and I'm sorry I didn't realise that before, because I wasted six years of not knowing you, of missing out on you."

 Draco just smiled up into his green vivid eyes, feeling the comfort from him.

"Harry, I'm so tiered..." He whispered. 

Harry grabbed his wand from the floor, which had been there, since it had fallen from Harry's grasp, when he first saw Draco in his state. He shushed Draco, and placed his wand on him, muttering a few quick healing spells. First he healed the open wounds from Draco's body, causing the blood to disappear, and his hair to become the glowing blonde again. 

The bruises lightened slightly, but the physical marks did not fade as much as he would have liked. He then fixed his robes. When he was done, he sighed, and looked back at Draco, who was obviously trying to stay awake. 

"I'm sorry I can't heal all of your scars."

"You did..."

"No. .Not the emotional ones, the invisible ones. I know they hurt more than any physical pain possible." 

Draco lifted his hand, so that it rested on Harry's cheek.

"You have no idea just how much you helped them though…and I bet sooner or later, you can make them all go away…"

 Draco brought Harry's face down, and brushed his lips softly over Harry's, before pulling away. 

"You do know that right?"

 he asked the other boy, before kissing him again, this time with slightly more force, running his tongue along his bottom lip. Harry pulled away, and smile.

"I do now, and you have the same effect on me."

 Harry kissed Dracos forehead softly, sending a chill through Draco. 

"You need to rest…" 

Before Draco could respond, Harry had gathered him in his arms, and was placing him onto his bed, pulling the covers around him, and brushing his hair out of his still slightly swollen eyes. He turned to leave, but was stopped by Dracos hand, which rested lightly on his hip.

"Why can't you stay?"

"…I never said I couldn't"

 The two of them smiled, as Harry placed his glasses on the small table beside the bed, before sliding carefully under the covers with Draco, both ignoring and forgetting how much physical pain was running through their bodies. Harry wrapped his arm lightly and gently around Draco's waist, making sure not to hurt either of them. Both exhausted, they were quickly over come by sleep. 

Draco woke up suddenly, his arm burning. He looked down and saw it was glowing. He woke up Harry, who opened his eyes, filled with awareness.

"What's wrong?"

 he asked, rubbing his eyes, as he put on his glasses. He stared at Dracos glowing arm, Draco's eyes were filled with desperation, he was frightened.

"I have to go Harry, he's calling me." 

Harry looked at him, confused. Draco left the bed, and began to take out two things from his closet. As he began to explain.

"The Dark Lord, he is calling me, I have to go." 

Draco began to pull on a heavy black cloak, his death eater's cloak. He tucked his mask under his arm, as he walked back to the bed, and looked down at Harry. He placed his cool hand on Harry's cheek, and smiled at him, before giving him a soft quick kiss.

"I'll be back soon Harry…" 

he whispered, before he left the room, to go find Professor Snape.  

As expected, Professor Snape was already at the entrance hall. They nodded silently at each other. Snape held out his hand, he was holding a quill, their port key. They both wrapped their hand around it, and within second they were standing in a hallway, as other death eaters appeared around them. They each looked confused on why they were called in the middle of the night, but of course none of them questioned. 

Draco entered the large room, and parted from Snape, to take his place next to his father, who was on the right of a large elegant chair. Within a few minutes everyone had appeared, and the room was finally silent. Everyone turned to look at the main door, which opened. The Dark Lord entered, and sat down in his seat. He laced his hands together, and stared around the room, which was waiting in anticipation on what their Lord was going to say. 

"I realize you all must be wondering why I have called upon you…"

 Draco shuddered inside, not showing any of his emotions, which he was good at. The cold voice continued.

"It was brought to my attention, from one of my most respected followers… that some punishment is in order."

 Draco froze in his place; a cold sweat began to break over his body, he hoped, prayed, that he hadn't anything to do with what was going to happen. The dark lord stood, and made his way menacingly around the circle, only to stop in front of Draco. Draco felt himself being drained, as he stared at his Lord.

Draco felt a surge go through his body, like an electrical current, winding its way through his veins, wrapping itself around his lungs. His breathing swallowed, as he fought to take in the air he needed in order to live. 

He was lying on the floor, the cold black marble felt harsh against his back, making it ache more than it already had. The shadowed figure stood above him, looking down at him, as the others stood in a circle around him, enabling him to see anything of the world outside of them. He heard himself pleading for them to spare his life, begging for whatever had upset him, he was faithful, he lied, and all of the sudden filled with the sudden erg to live, to see him, to see Harry, just once more, to hold him, and to be held.

 The figure began to laugh, sending chills down Draco's spine. 

'I do not wish to kill you, you stupid boy,'

 the hooded figure hissed. Draco was lifted into a chair by two of the other hooded fingers, one that happened to be his own father, who refused to look his own son in his eyes as he was chained into it, unable to escape. It's long thin fingers laced through Draco's silver hair, and it pulled his head back, over the top of the wooden chair. He pushed it sideways so Draco's neck was visible, naked and venerable.

 Its fingers touched his collarbone, as it began to sink and burn into Draco pale skin, filling the room with the smell of burning flesh. He screamed, unable to bare the pain, unable to stay silent. His eyes shut, as tears began to flow freely from them. He could feel a liquid substance entering his body. 

He was paralysed. He couldn't see, he couldn't hear, couldn't think, he was emotionless. His eyes rolled back into his head, as it released him. He sank into his chair, his body limp, unable to support itself. Even if he couldn't hear or think, the last few words entered his head.

"Let that be a lesson boy, don't you ever lie to me. I know you cared when he fell, you weren't checking to see if he was alive for my sake. I trust you boy, you will honour me."  

And with that their meeting was over, and Draco was lifted from the chair by Snape, and taken back to Hogwarts, where his mask was removed, and his death eater robe put away, and he was left on his bed next to Harry, who was still awake from the moment he left. Neither Snape nor Harry said anything. Snape parted from Draco's room, without questioning Harry on why he was there, and with Harry questioning what had happened. It wasn't the time; they would talk in the morning


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: thank you for all the replies ****J****… Oh and to the person (forgot who) that mentioned that Snape was stupid to leave Draco alone, your right, I guess I forgot about that. So lets just say that the torture that Draco endured was not threatening, but just something that would cause pain, no after affect. Thanks again for the replies, and sorry this is not very long…Review please ****J**** Oh and sorry for any spelling mistakes or something.. **

Relief. That was what he felt when he woke up. He couldn't feel the pain running through him. He was conscious. He had been spared. Anger. Why would his father betray him? Why was he even part of that stupid cult? He was better than them; he didn't need to follow anyone. Sadness. He was already marked. He couldn't escape. He was alone in his thoughts and experiences. 

Draco opened his eyes, and turned around onto his other side, hoping to find him still there, but he wasn't, like in his thoughts, he was alone. 

Draco sighed, and visibly cringed as he sat up in his bed, which was cold without a certain someone. He looked over at the clock opposite, and sighed when he realized that classes had just began. He fell back onto the bed. He knew he would be excused, after what happened last night, he was sure Snape would tell Dumbladore. How could Snape seriously believe that Draco thought he wasn't a spy for the 'light'? It was so obvious; he was naïve to believe Draco didn't suspect anything.  The blonde laughed out loud to the empty room.

"How many times have I dreamt of going to Dumbladore, and offered to be a spy!?" 

Draco laughed again, beginning to sound slightly crazed, glad that he had a silencing charm on his room. That was the only reason he had a room, was so that students wouldn't realize when the Dark Lord was calling him, his Lord.

 Draco sighed again, and lifted himself from the bed, heading over to the showers, he needed something to calm his nerves, and to ease his pains, both physical and emotional. 

"Why don't you just go to Dumbladore? Tell him you want to join our side?" 

His eyes looked pleadingly at him. He laughed at how naïve he was acting. 

"What like Snape did?" 

He looked at him with a confused expression.

"Wait…how did you know?" 

"Harry please, of course I know Snape is a spy for Dumbladore. I'm not blind!" 

He stared back into those eyes. The two were sitting side by side on his bed, it was noon, lunchtime. 

"So why cant you just do what he does? Be a spy?"

"You don't understand. I can't escape. I keep walking in a circle, winding through my mind, trying to find a place I can hide. I would trade everything for that. Why do I keep fooling myself? I can never be like him Harry. I'm in the inner circle. I'm one of The Dark Lords most trusted death eater. He can read me Harry. My mind is opened to him, like a goddamn book Harry. He can read me like a god damned fucking book."

"Harry why are you so late? Where have you been?"

 Hermione looked at Harry, and for the first real time that year, she looked like she cared. 

"I was talking to a teacher."

 Harry sat down beside his two friends, and began to pile on food onto his plate. He stared at it, not wanting to actually eat, his mind still on Draco.

"Harry, is something wrong? You look…pale."

 Hermione was biting her bottom lip, like she always did when she was concerned. He gave her a weak smile, one which wasn't very convincing.

"I'm fine Mione, really, just a bit… tiered." 

Hermione nodded, and looked away, but it was obvious she didn't believe a word Harry was saying, he heard her sigh lightly under her breath. Ron, who was talking to Dean about Quidditch, stood up to go to the bathroom. Of course Hermione saw this as an opportunity to talk to Harry.

"Harry..." She attempted to start, but was cut off by Harry.

"

Honestly 'Mione I'm fine, bloody hell."

 He said, starting to get slightly annoyed. She glared at him.

"If you're so bloody fine, then why do hurt yourself." 

She stared at him, with one of her eyebrows raised, her lips set very thinly. Harry stared at her, shocked.

"W what? What do you mean?"

 He quickly dropped his left arm under the table. She sighed, and grabbed it, pulling the sleeves of his robe up, staring at his scars on his arm. Harry pulled the sleeves back down, and wouldn't look her in the eye. Again she sighed, frustrated.

"Look Harry, I know you thought I didn't notice. Maybe you thought I didn't care. But I do Harry, I'm your friend. I was trying to wait and see when you would come to me. But you haven't. Harry you've been so distant, hell, half the time I don't know where you are! Its like I don't know you, and it scares me." 

She ended in a whisper. Harry finally looked at her; he was ashamed to see he had made her form tears in her worried eyes. 

"Hermione…I'm sorry…it's just, it's been really…difficult…"

 Harry stopped short of what he was going to say, since at that moment Ron sat back down, smiling at the two, totally unaware of the tension. 

Harry got up and faked a smile at Ron. He pretended to tie his shoe, but instead he whispered in Hermione's ear. 

"I'll talk to you later, maybe tonight ok." 

He then got up and left, not sure where he was going, just knowing he had to get out of the building, he needed some sun, some fresh air maybe. He didn't know, he just needed a change in atmosphere. 

He knocked on the door lightly. A few seconds later he heard the voice shout for him to come in, he sounded irritated, nothing unusual there. He pushed open the door and walked in. professor Snape had his back towards, putting away a bottle onto a shelf, losing it among so many other bottles identical to it. He turned around, and sneered at him.

"Don't you think you're a bit early, Potter?"

 he spat out his name, as if it was venom. Harry just continued to stay still, determined not to get fed up with Snape. He kept reminding himself, that he was not here for him, but for Draco, do it for him, he repeated to himself. He inhaled.

"Actually no Professor, what I want to speak to you about has nothing to do with school."

 He stared determinedly into the moody professors cold eyes. He glared at Harry, before sitting himself down on his desk, motioning for Harry to sit in one of the chairs. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Well, do I need to feed you a potion to make you tell me what you want to talk about?"

 Professor Snape commented sarcastically. Harry just gritted his teeth, still repeating the words, do it for him.

"No professor, that wont be necessary…I am here to… ask for your advise, and maybe to… resolve something."

 Harry said slowly, picking out the right words. Professor Snape sighed, and lent forward slightly.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with young Malfoy, would it potter?" 

He raised an eyebrow. Harry blushed slightly; still embarrassed that Snape had seen Harry, in Draco's bed. 

"Um, yes in fact it does have something to do with him. You see… well… He shouldn't be going through what he is. He doesn't even want to be a death eater; I think you should talk to him. Convince him to be a spy, like you." 

Harry explained, rushing his words. He looked back up into Snapes face, and to his surprise it had soften quite a bit.

"Don't you think I have tried to talk to him? Potter, it would be extremely difficult, not to mention dangerous, for him to be put into that position. He is the inner circle, he is opened to Voldermort. I'm just thankful that what happened to him last night wasn't something to end his life…" 

Harry frowned; this was not the answer he was hoping to hear, he wanted Snape to solve everything, he wanted him to agree and go to Dumbladore and sort the whole thing out.

"But… can't Professor Dumbladore do anything?" 

Harry asked, his eyes somewhat desperate. Snape sighed.

"I have talked to him, he said it may be possible. He would have to go through a spell first, to allow him to block his mind off anyone, training would take to long… but Potter, he has to agree with it. And from what he's been saying, I don't think he will…"

 Harry sat for a while, trying to think of a way to convince Snape to agree with him. 

"What if…what if I could convince him to want that?" 

Harry said slowly. Snape stood suddenly, and moved back to his work.

"If you can, then that would be great. Now Potter please leave, I am busy." 

Harry nodded, and opened the door. He turned around.

"And Professor?" 

He asked. Snape looked up at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Thanks…" 

Harry said, before leaving and shutting the door. He leant against it, before leaving for his classes; he had one minute to be down for Herbology. 


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am so sorry that it took me such a long time to update…I hope you guys will like this chapter, I think I had a bit of writers block *yes I admit it!* Thank you for all the reviews ****J**** please leave your comment for this chapter too.. oh and if you think it need improving or something, just tell me, I could use the help…thanks again, ENJOY…please lol… **

~~~~

Harry arrived at the library at exactly eight o'clock, and walked over to where Hermione was sitting, who was already waiting for him. He sighed, and sat down in the seat opposite her, nervous since he had no idea what he was going to say to her. Lucky for him she started talking first.

"Harry, firstly… I am truly sorry." 

She said, her voice low, in order not to attract attention to them. 

"For what?" 

He asked, his voice dead.

"I'm not sure what for, but I feel like…we've become distant. I'm sorry for that Harry, and I'm sorry that you have resulted to cutting yourself to deal with your emotions." 

Harry immediately pulled his hand from the tabletop, to place it under the table, away from Hermione to see. She sighed and reached over, and held it. She looked her friend in the eyes.

"Harry I'm your friend, let me see, I wont think any less of you." 

Harry pulled his arm away, and back under the table, he didn't want her to see them.

Hermione sighed.

"Harry please, let me see what you've done." 

She asked, her eyes showing only genuine worry.

"Why do you want to see? So you can tell everyone! Just, no…" He whispered harshly, and she shook her head.

"I only wanted to see because I worry about you!" 

She protested. Harry looked around; pained, then very slowly he held out his arm so she could see. She pulled the black sleeve up, and held Harry's tan arm, before slowly rotating it so that his palm was facing up, and gasped. Harry's arm was a pattern of geometrical lines, some deep and dark, and others light. She looked at one 'pattern' carefully and widened her eyes.

"Harry what does that say?" 

she whispered.

"Nothing." 

He tried to pull his hand back, but Hermione only strengthen her hold on him. 

"It … it looks like letters…."

"They _are_ letters." 

Harry replied sarcastically.

 "Well I'm hoping you put _his_ initials on you because you hate him so much?" 

She asked, already knowing the answer.

"No Mione…I think it's because of the opposite." 

He whispered, a worried expression on his face. 

"Are you telling me that you… that you..." 

For once she seemed lost of words.

"That I hugely and immensely fancy Draco Malfoy, son of a death eater, prince of Slytherin, our enemy since day one. Then yes Mione, you would be right." 

His voice again dripping with annoyed sarcasm. She stared at him for a few moments.

"But why Harry…no…when? I…I don't understand…" 

she asked, frowning. Harry sighed, trying to control his mixed emotions.

"Why, because he and I are so alike. When, since the beginning of the school year. And I didn't understand either."

"How did it happen?"

"He cornered me in the hall one day…he looked as if he had just been beaten, which turned out to be true. He told me he hated me, and he pushed me against the wall. But…but he didn't hurt me, no, instead he kissed me. Then he left, and well…I guess its sort of developed from there? Hermione we're actually quite close."

 He looked at her, his eyes pleading for her to understand. She nodded slowly, and then very slowly a small smile spread across her lips.

"Just don't tell Ron."

She said, causing Harry to smile to.

"Thanks Hermione." 

He whispered.

"No problem Harry… that's what friends are for." 

They both left the library, Hermione to the common room, and Harry to go find Draco. He was relived that he had finally told someone; it was becoming hard to keep a secret from everybody. 

Draco sat at his desk, his legs propped up on the left side, as he lent back in his chair. He looked over at Blaise, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed, quill and parchment in hand. They were meant to be doing their homework, but of course they couldn't concentrate. Draco continued what they were talking about.

"You know, I have suspicions that the Dark Lord will begin to recruit students from Hogwarts to join. But I think he's trying to wait until we have all graduated, you know…that way Dumbladore will be out of our lives…" 

Blaise looked up from his parchment, a disgusted look on his face.

"Draco, you have to stall him, I don't want to be marked."

 His voice was somewhat of a despite plea.

"Don't be daft, I know that. What do you think I've been trying to do?" 

Blaise shrugged his shoulders, and went back to his homework, only to look back up in a few moments.

"What's it like? I mean, being there with all of them. Do you ever get afraid they might know you're not loyal? Is he really as cruel as they make him out to be?" 

Draco lifted himself from his seat at the desk, and walked over to the bed, sitting himself down next to Blaise.

"I'm always scared _shitless_ when he calls. Every time I have this cold sweat when he enters the room, wondering, hoping he wont discover me. Personally I think people don't make him sound bad enough. Blaise, you have no idea…" 

Draco looked back at Blaise, and he nodded slowly. 

"I think I do, I mean, I've noticed how you've…you know always seem to look different after the meetings. And you seem to have…changed." Draco looked away.

"You know the other day I was set on the Crucio curse..." 

Draco whispered, his voice slightly hoarse. Blaise stared dumbly at him.

"By who? Why?"

"By the lord. Remember when Har...Potter fell during Quidditch, and I went to see if he was ok?" 

Blaise frowned and nodded, wondering if Draco knew he had almost said Harry. But he didn't interrupt, instead he just listened. 

"Well, that same day, after the match, my father…paid me little visit, as they say. He beat me. And that same night he went running to the Dark Lord, and told him all about it…"

 Blaise shook his head.

"That's really disgusting. I'm so glad my parents are not extreme death eaters. I mean, they haven't really pressured me about joining yet… I feel so sorry for you…"

 Draco stared in front of him, before whispering. 

"I feel sorry for myself almost everyday. But I guess you just have to deal with it huh?"

 He sighed heavily, and leaned back on his bed, staring at his canopy. Blaise did the same. After some time Blaise, rose himself on one elbow, and looked at Draco, frowning slightly in thought.

"Draco…who do you think, out of our year, would actually willingly go to the Dark Lord?"

 Blaise asked, his voice tainted with nervousness. Draco continued to stare up, he closed his eyes slightly, and rubbed his forehead. 

"A lot more than you would think Blaise. A hell of a lot more…"

 Blaise, stared at him, slightly shocked. 

Draco's eyes shot open when he heard the sound of his door open. He sat up, and looked over at Blaise frowning. Blaise mouthed the words 'who is it?' which Draco shrugged in response. There were only three people who could open his door, his father, Professor Snape…and Harry. 

"Draco you in here?"

 Draco's eyes widened when he recognized the voice. He shot up from the bed, and avoided to look at Blaise, who had a look on his face from a cross of confusion and disgust. Why would Harry, the boy-who-just-wouldn't-die, be coming in Draco, the-prince-of-darkness's room? And so casually?

 In a few moments Harry appeared in sight, his smile vanished, and was replaced in an expression that matched perfectly to the blondes. Draco cleared his throat.

"What the hell are you doing in here Har…Potter?"

He pretended not to notice that his voice squeaked slightly, but obviously Blaise hadn't. He sat up on the bed, and stared back and forth from the two of them. Harry's eyes were still as wide as ever, and his face had a deep blush over it. 

"I…I…um…Professor Snape…told me to…to…come here…" 

Harry stuttered and stumbled over his words, and nodded vigorously, a nervous smile spread across his lips. Draco looked at him.

"Oh…uh…he did? Great…" 

Blaise raised himself from the bed, and walked around the two, a frown etched across his tanned face. 

"Why Potter, would Snape send you here?" 

Blaise asked, his voice much deeper and calmer than the two he was studying. Harry turned to Blaise, his eyes darting from various objects in the small room, shifting from foot to foot. He never was good in awkward situations. 

"Well…he said something about Draco's…potion homework. Congratulating him or something…Yeah…well, now you know…and I think I'll … just leave…" 

Harry began to make his way out, but Blaise stood in front of him, glaring at him straight in the eyes. Draco stood silent in the background. 

"And why Potter, would Snape send you, of all people, when he knows you and Draco are rivals. And why would he make you come to his personal room. And why couldn't he do it himself? After all, it was only congratulating him on homework, a test I would understand. Why can't he wait until class tomorrow?"

 Blaise asked, an eyebrow rose. Harry stared at Blaise, and then looked quickly at Draco with a look of plea. Draco just shrugged, still standing behind Blaise.

"Well…I guess…you'll have to ask him that…"

 Harry said slowly. Blaise nodded.

"Fine I will." He replied, determinedly. Harry squirmed slightly.

"Why? You don't have to ask him; I mean, why bother him? Right, well…I'll just go."

 He backed away from Blaise, who grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. He turned around to face Draco, shifting his gaze from the two.

"Ok, what the fuck if going on?"

**A/N: you read it, now review it…even if your not a user, I don't care….I like reviews, they make me happy *cheesy grin* yes I'll shut up now… **


End file.
